


The Nighshirt diaries

by JosieCarioca



Series: The Toy Box [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Longing, Severus Snape´s nightshirt, Slice of Life, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23693398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosieCarioca/pseuds/JosieCarioca
Summary: A series of short vignettes featuring Severus Snape´s nightshirt
Relationships: Severus Snape x Evelyn Black, Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Toy Box [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1662841
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	The Nighshirt diaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How could she not love such a man”?

  
  


(March, 1999)

  
  


  
  


At first she wondered if it was too soon to ask him to bring his clothes and personal effects over to her house. Severus himself had asked her if she was sure. He didn´t want her to feel like they were going too fast. But it was only natural, wasn´t it? He´d been spending most of the time at her house, particularly nights.

It felt right once it was done.

Severus shaving kit and bottle of aftershave looked like they had always been on her bathroom sink. Of course, it didn´t hurt that Severus, being Severus, had a rather elegant all black vintage kit with mother-of-pearl inlay, that would look stunning in any bathroom and his after-shave came in a bottle that could pass for a XIXth century apothecary jar. His clothes, all shades of black, gray and dark, rich greens looked perfect folded next to the multicolored, multi-patterned, warm toned array of her own wardrobe. His simple all-black socks and underwear were a visually welcome addition to her drawers filled with rose and beige airy lingerie.

Every day a little more of Severus showed up here and there. His black boots lined up neatly next to her high heels, his black jacket hanging among her dresses, whatever book he happened to be reading laying on the chaise longue in her office, his nightshirt folded neatly on her bed...even his disgusting cigarrettes on the crystal ashtray she had, very hesitantly, bought and put on the coffee table looked just right next to the decorative moon-and-stars candleholder her sister had given her.

The more of Severus she saw in her room and all around the house, the more she felt like his presence was a natural part of her home, of her life. They weren´t going too fast. They were going at exactly the pace they should be going, she was sure of it now.

Evelyn ran her hands over the clean, crisply folded fabric, enjoying the lingering scent of soap and softener.

Typical Severus to have the clothes scrupulously clean, pressed and folded before she could even get to them. Then, thoughtfully, he would leave them on the bed so she could put them away and feel like she had helped a bit. Whenever he wasn´t in London for work, or working in a project at his house, he would spend the day at her place and while she was at work, take over most of the cleaning chores. Somehow he managed to finish them faster than she ever could.

“Magic.” he´d say, repeating his same old joke.

Evelyn put the clean laundry away, reminding herself to leave his nightshirt out, on the bed as usual.

She still remembered the first time she had seen that one. That night she had to sleep over at his house and he brought her one of his own nightshirts to wear. She remembered finding it oddly appropriate that he´d sleep in nightshirts that looked like the an Ebenezer Scrooge costume. And as strange and even funny as the idea of a man sleeping in a nightshirt in the late XXth century may have seemed, that night the feeling of the fabric around her body had been conforting as very few things she had felt in her life. Evelyn still remembered the desperate sense of vulnerability and powerlessness that had overcome her that night. And moreso than that, she remembered how safe she felt in Severus´house, how warm and soft his nightshirt felt around her body, and how much she had wished it had been his arms instead.

It seemed like another life when she couldn´t even admit to herself how much she wanted him.

Now the sight of his nightshirt folded on her bed, waiting for him to change into it and slip under the covers was so familiar that it felt like they´d been living together for years, instead of a few short weeks.

“Am I allowed into this daydream of yours?” Evelyn shuddered and jumped when Severus´ dark voice and warm breath touched her neck, then she relaxed falling back into the craddle of his arms as he hugged her from behind.

“You really need to stop sneaking up on me like that...”

“But it´s so entertaining...” he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, over the flimsy fabric of her robe. “What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“You´re sure?”

“Yes...are you coming to bed?”

“Not just yet, I need to look over some papers for work, if you don´t mind me borrowing your office for it.

“Of course I don´t.”

“But if you want to go to bed, just go right ahead, I know you´ve got an early day tomorrow.”

“In a little while...I just started a new book, so...”

“Why don´t you just read while I´ll take a shower, change into something more comfortable and work on a few pages. Then I´ll come right back.”

It had become a tradition they had. Evelyn always went to sleep early and woke up early, and Severus preferred to stay up all night. So, when the time came for her to turn in for the night, Severus would join her for a little while until she fell asleep, then get right back up and go back to whatever he was working on or reading until he was finally ready to call it a night, usually well past 3 am.

Most nights the arrangement worked just fine.

Evelyn knew tonight wouldn´t be one of those nights. Snuggled under the covers with a new novel Lewis had sent her, autographed by the author and all, she could barely concentrate on the words. Her brain seemed much more interested in the noise of Severus shower running, on the scent of soap and oakmoss that followed him as he got out of the bathroom and walked back into the room to his nightshirt and the fleece robe over it.

It had taken him a little while to be entirely comfortable with the idea of being naked in front of her. She could remember his initial discomfort about taking his clothes off, and to this day he didn´t quite discuss the reason with her. She had her suspicions, but kept them to herself. When he felt like talking, he would.

Over the book she wasn´t reading, her eyes followed the crisscross pattern of scars on his back and arms, that moved slightly along with his lean, stringy muscles as he patted himself dry with the towel. She looked at the misshappen scar on his left forearm, that ugly thing that had once been a tatto which he always refused to talk about or even describe, trying once more to make up the outlines of something recognisable. She watched the long fingers of his veiny hands as they unfolded the nightshirt, the left hand as always, quite less dexterous than the right, and the worn grey fabric slid over his lean chest, down the sides of his body, over wiry muscle and skin, falling about his long legs.

Severus was not handsome, and at first sight he looked gangly and bird-like, but if you bothered to look there was an odd sort of elegance and strenght on him. He was all arms and legs, spare musculature and tight ligaments, big feet, spindling fingers and veins. He was always a tiny bit tense, his jaw always a minute away from clenching, his lips always a minute away from a scowl or a grin, his face all sharp lines around black, staring eyes.

Severus was not handsome, but once you bothered to look, he could be fascinating. Evelyn couldn´t get enough of looking at him. Sometimes he´d ask her what she´s seen on him, only half-joking. She had got that question from a couple other people. What on earth had attracted her in a man like Severus Snape? The answer seemed so obvious to her she didn´t even give it much thought.

Why wouldn´t she be attracted to a man who had the hands of a pianist, the profile of a roman bust, a voice that could make the walls of a classroom tremble and shoulders that looked like they carried the weight of the world? How could she not love such a man?

He gave her light kiss before going to the study, and the way it burned on her lips, she suspected she wouldn´t be reading a single page that night.

She honestly tried to give him some time to work. She insisted on the book, reading and rereading the same paragraph over and over again to see if she could focus. Then she tossed the book aside and stared at the pile of unfinished volumes on her side table, hoping one would draw her attention and distract her enough to just leave him to do his job in peace.

It didn´t work.

He was so focused on scribbling notes and observations on the material he was studying he didn´t notice her coming in. Or at least she thought he didn´t.

“I take that the book Lewis sent you wasn´t that interesting?” he quipped, swivling the chair around to look at her.

“I wouldn´t know.”

Severus´long fingers dropped his pen on the desk and he leaned back on the chair with a knowing, wicked smile on his lips.

“Come here, you...”


End file.
